Learning the Japanese language requires daily practice. Can I keep it up until 2009's JLPT 2 test? Definitely.

About So Ka So Ka

This blog is now a tool for me to keep on track with my daily Japanese studies. I will occasionally post new vocabulary as I learn it, or maybe I will post Japanese diary entries. Who knows? This is the Internet--anything can happen.

I know it looks like 日, but Hirabi's middle line doesn't quite reach the right side. 曰 means "say" and is a picture of a mouth (口) with a suggestion of a tongue in the middle. In 替, though, it's just an action indicator.

Along a dark road at night, be careful of degenerates, and if anything happens report it to the police.

After her husband's death, that woman has had a hard time raising her children on her own.

Radical:

Suinyou (夊) down below is the radical. This was originally a pictograph of a dragging foot.

A note from KN: 夊 is often assumed to be the same as 夂, but they're different characters. Unfortunately, in combination with other kanji, 夊 often takes the form of 夂, leading to more confusion. Just memorize 変 as dragging a foot.

What's that on top? A simplified 赤, right? WRONG. But you were right about the simplification.

変 was originally 變. 糸 on both sides of 言. This represents a tangled situation. Tangled indeed.

Reflecting upon my life up to this point, I'm going to better my life.

Hold the buckets and reflect in the hallway.

Highway maintenance is the Ministry of Transport's jurisdiction.

Radical:

目 is the radical, although it's on the bottom.

少 is on top, the kanji for very small or little. (Incidentally, this kanji is made from 小, which is a pictograph of a wooden stick and its shavings, and a ノ mark, which indicates a sword, cutting even that whittled stick into smaller pieces.)

So, look at the fine details. Certainly something that government departments should do.

"omit, cut down" is a borrowed meaning, unrelated to its original etymology.

Bonus: Buckets?

A traditional school punishment in Japan was to stand holding two buckets filled with water. That's not done anymore, but you still see it in manga and so on.

On the right, we almost have "good," 良, but not quite. It's 艮, and Kanji Networks is a little unclear about it. KN says that 艮 is an indelible tattoo, whcih indicates adherence. However, I can't find info on 艮 itself.

At any rate, the Kozato radical (shorthand for 阜) makes us think of walled borders around a town, hence, limits.

So 係 is a person connecting objects with a thread. I guess only people in charge should do that.

But not with 糸.

Bonus: カンケイネー！

In Japanese, there is a very useful phrase: それは関係がない。 It means, "There's no connection!" It's useful in debating things with your friends, or arguments in general (just shout 関係ない！), but it's also used when watching TV and something totally silly and absurd takes place.

The phonetic element is 戒, "admonish." It's a pictograph of a pair of hands with a spear or halberd (戈). Think of "admonish" as an officer warning his troops to be taut for battle. Or, think of brandishing your spear to your enemy, thus "warning" him.

Together, the idea here is "shackles," which used to be made of wood, used for punishment. Such a device was used, perhaps a lot? Thus we get "machine."

Bonus: 産む機械

In January 2007, the Health Minister of Japan Hakuo Yanagisawa referred to women as "child-bearing machines," or 産む機械. It was in reference to Japan's declining birthrate.

Of course it sparked a controversy. Although he followed it up with a "pardon the expression" kind of apology, it was still stunning that a Minister of Health would feel free to alienate half of the people he was supposed to be looking out for.

The Edo Period was the period when the social hierarchy of samurai, farmers, artisans, and merchants was established.

I fell down the stairs and hurt myself.

The couple who reside in the third-floor apartment are always having domestic squabbles.

Radical:

阝 on the left, so the radical is Kozato, an abbreviated form of 阜, a picture of a pile of earth.

阝, Kozato, is different from 阝 (Oozato), as explained in my post on 降.

The phonetic element is 皆. We should already know 皆 as meaning "everyone."

比 is on the top of 皆, and we should know it from 比べる, to compare. 比 is a pictograph of two people lined up.

The bottom part of 皆 is a squished version of 自, self. It acts as an action indicator.

Let's just think of 皆 in 階 as "line up" and 阜 as "higher earth." Thus "rank," as in when you line up people you will place the higher-ranked people higher than the rest. You can also think of "stairs," if you think of a long line of people, one after the other, marching up the stairs. If you've ever been in a busy train station in Japan, you can easily imagine this.

San-zui, yet again, the three drops of 水 on the left mark this as a water-radical kanji.

The phonetic element is the one we just learned, 可. Remember, the pictogram shows a bent hook.

So, a bending body of water = a river.

Important: 河 & 川

川 means the same thing as 河, and is pronounced the same way.

Look, I know. I KNOW. What. The. Heck.

Google to the rescue. I found a forum thread just about these two kanji (see ref).

While there might be a difference etymologically from the Chinese (可+水=long, bending river with lots of twisty tributaries), there's no real difference in Japanese.

One forum poster says that 川 is mainly used for rivers in Japan and 河 is used for foreign rivers, usually. That's good to remember. Also good to remember is that Japanese people think 河 is the "hard kanji for river."

And just remember 河川 means "rivers" so you'll remember both!

Bonus:大河ドラマ

Wondering what kind of shows "Taiga dramas" are? They are the historical dramas that NHK puts on every year. They last for many weeks, following historical figures. One ridiculous one I saw was about a real guy, but it was completely manga-fied. The historical figure was secretly a martial-arts expert, and he avenged people in the night wearing a Tengu mask.

I'm not sure what that one was called, so I couldn't find a clip. Instead, here's a random Taiga clip from Youtube, wherein a guy with an eyepatch has a moral dilemma:

The connection is that you have to investigate (using words) in order to obtain results. This is such a task that you have to assign a whole "department" to do the investigation.

Bonus: Japanese Business Hierarchy of Titles

I translated 課長 as "sir." This is not accurate. 課長 means "section chief" or "section manager." But nobody says "Section chief, telephone," in English. The idea is silly to us.

But in Japan, that's how it goes. You call people by their titles. Additionally, there are several levels of power that you should be familiar with.

社長 - top level, company president

副社長 - company vice president

支店長 - branch manager

部長 - division manager

課長 - section manager

...

Did you think that was it? Ha! Far from it. I found a nine-pages-long PDF of almost all the titles in existence. It's here: http://www.j-net.org.uk/Miscellaneous/J-E%20Job%20Titles.pdf. I couldn't get it to open, though. I would suggest right-clicking on that link and downloading it as a PDF, or (more safely), you could go to the google cache of the PDF: here.

And after all this, what next awaits our young hero? (Find out in our next thrilling installment of the manga/in the sequel!)

People long ago believed that, at the end of the earth, there was a sheer, precipitous cliff.

Fruit is good for you.

Radical:

木 is the radical.

I always remembered this kanji by thinking of the 田 on top as a bunch of fruit-laden branches, full of ripe goodness.

Happily, the etymology is the same as my invented mnemonic: the pictograph is of a tree filled with ripe, round fruit.

Bonus:文旦

When I was last in Japan, I had this fruit, called bontan. (We call it "pomelo.")

Huge, right? They look like giant grapefruit, but taste very different. Sweeter and more of a subtle taste... honestly, it was a few months ago, and, while I was impressed at the time, I can't summon up the exact flavor. Delicious, though.

I had mine in Beppu, but they're grown in many places in Japan. I saw huge, basketball-sized ones growing in Hamamatsu.

In Vietnam, I think they're greener. At least that's what I've ascertained via the internet this morning. In Japan, ぼんたん are yellow on the outside but pink with an orange tint on the inside.

One way of cultural exchange is to instruct the exchange student in calligraphy.

I work part time as a Kuchisake Onna at at haunted house. (see Bonus)

I'm involved in an internationalization program and putting effort into my children's English education.

Radical:

匕 is our radical, and her name is Saji. She's a pictograph of a curved, spoonlike utensil. The horizontal slash traditionally protruded on the other side of the vertical line, but more and more the protrusion is disappearing.

However, 化 has nothing to do with spoons. Rather, it has to do with change. The left shows a standing person, and the right shows a seated one. Used to be, the left 人 was inverted, showing someone fallen; the change motif continued.

Why this is classified under 匕 and not 人, I haven't a clue.

Bonus: Kuchisake Onna

Were you confused by that example sentence? The speaker is a woman who dresses up as a Kuchisake Onna monster in an amusement park's haunted house.

Kuchisake Onna ("slit-mouthed woman") is a traditional Japanese monster that borders on being an urban legend. The trouble with calling her an urban legend is that she's been around since the Edo period.

According to the wikipedia article, her mouth was slit open by a jealous husband. Now, she must enact the same fate on others. She usually asks the same trick question to her victims. "私、キレイ？" If you say no, she's not beautiful, she'll cut your face open, like any woman would. If you say yes, she'll walk you home and then cut your face open, since きれい (beautiful) sounds like 切れ (cut). Some think that if you say "so-so," you'll be saved, but this is only if you run really fast right after saying it.

From the ever-wonderful blog Watashi To Tokyo, I learned that there is going to be a Kuchizake Onna movie. Here is the link to the trailer. But you know, this has been done before... See the video below and let me know which one is scarier, the schoolgirl, or the trenchcoated woman.

During the time of Prime Minister Tanaka in Japan, it was decided to distribute the public-school textbooks to students completely free.

Radical:

Nogi-hen, 禾, on the left. 斗, a pictograph of a ladle or measuring cup, on the right. Originally 科 was used to mean "rank" or "examine," like you examine the quality of rice by measuring it.

Departments in universities are where examinations are held.

Bonus: 教科書

The textbooks in Japan are strictly regulated by the government. Even in the private schools. And there's no home school system.

So everybody born in the same year knows exactly the same stories. That's neat; you always can reminisce with anyone the same age, even if you didn't go to the same high school. It's also kind of scary. The idea is trying to make everybody think the same way.

There are controversies about what is to be included and what isn't. For example, the Nanking Incident/Massacre. How this is handled is always a subject of debate.

卸 is on the right. 卸 has traveled a long way from its original meaning. 卸 used to be a pictograph of a kneeling figure (the 卩) pounding something with a hammer, and when 止 was added, it showed someone whipping a horse that kicked. Then 卸 was borrowed to express relieving a horse of its burdens, and that was extended to mean "unload."

御 works with the "tame a horse" meaning, meaning "control." And now 御 is the honorary prefix, sometimes written just with ご. It's because it at one point referred to the possessions of the emperor.

Bonus: Being Polite in Japanese

For any beginners who have crawled their way to my site:

"Gochisou sama deshita" and "gokurou sama deshita" are two very polite and very good phrases to know. Say ごちそうさまでした at a restaurant or at a home after your meal. Say ごくろうさまでした to express appreciation for someone else's work.

Bonus: みそ

My language-exchange partner's middle school teacher taught two ways of saying 御味噌汁. One is the one I used, pronounced おみそしる. Another was strange:

For purposes of pressing and urgent medical attention, a No Visitors sign was hung on his hospital room door.

Since she fell in front of everybody, she turned red with embarrassment.

Radical:

面 is its own radical. Unfortunately, it's a lonely radical. Only one other kanji uses it, the kanji for dimples: 靨

面 combines a form of 首, for neck/head, with a surrounding line, like the shape of the face.

Bonus: 面白い

おもしろい is an excellent word. I'm sure anyone reading this blog knows it, even if they only know it in romaji as "omoshiroi." It means "funny, interesting" and it used in almost every situation. I sometimes feel I overuse it, you know, like people whose reaction to funny things is always "That's so funny."

面白い is the kanji form, and boy, is it ever 面白い. Look at how well we can decipher it now. 面 is face and 白い is white.

How did that become interesting?

Well, I've read two different theories. One has to do with everything looking brighter when you're enjoying yourself. Your face itself looks brighter. Think "delighted" in English; when you're delighted, everything looks light and cheerful, right?

Sounds like a folk etymology to me. Another source I read says that actors used to paint their faces white, and one way or another the saying 面白い started applying to all entertaining things.

Second Bonus: お面

お面 refers to the masks sold at 祭り. Here's a brief shot of one of these vendors in the midst of a nighttime matsuri:

That crown you see on the top is a simplification. The way this kanji used to be written: 覺.

Luckily, that's the same way that 学's crown used to be written: 學.

So, remember what you've seen (見る) in school and 覚えろ！

Bonus: 正座

Seiza is the Japanese "polite" way of sitting. It's the formal pose you see people sit in at tea ceremonies or any kind of ceremony. Sit on the floor with your thighs on top of your shins, with your rear on your heels, back straight up. And yeah, your 足 feel all 麻痺 after a few minutes of it.

As for the translation of ぽんぽこりん: I couldn't find a translation anywhere, which is really odd for an anime song. From my sources, ぽんぽこ refers to a big, swollen belly, usually an animal's. The tanuki statues at restaurants in Japan usually have these kinds of stomachs. ぽんぽこりん just has a cute suffix. I suppose the translation would be "dancing belly," but, well, the entire song is incoherent and doesn't really need to make sense.

The anime is rather silly, I'm told, but interesting. Take a look at this clip, which I was able to find.

洛 below. This has San-zui on the left, the common form of 水. On the right is 各, showing a leg hitting a box and meaning "each" or "every."

洛 is also a phonetic element, importing the らく pronunciation.

So think of each blade of grass having dewdrops, which must fall.

Bonus:

So why is 洒落 a joke and お洒落 stylish?

洒落 can also mean cool. Cool people can be stylish, or they can be funny. (Rare is the person who is funny and good-looking, perhaps?)

But I want to talk about why 落ちる (fall) and 洒落 (joke) share a kanji. This comes straight from the idea of falling into a trap. 落ちる and 落とす can mean trick. It's a short logical leap from "trick" to "joke."

Also, did you ever notice what a Japanese person does when you tell him or her a bad joke?

(Maybe I tell a lot of bad jokes, and that's why I know.)

They pretend like they're falling.

I can't find any evidence that 落 is the connection, though. Rather, it's 転ける (commonly written as こける). This also means "fall," but more like in a "overturn and fall" way. 落ちる is falling straight down, due to gravity.

The public peace in New York has improved a lot, compared to previously.

Radical:

Our old friend 水 is here in the San-sui on the left.

台 is normally, now, a counter for vehicles. Here, think of it as a pictograph showing heavy pressure (from above) on the ground.

Add 水 to pressure and you get "controlling the flow of rivers." This can feed into the meaning of "calm, settle down" as well as "to govern." Plus, if you are controlling a river that often overflows, you are "fixing" the problem, "healing" the cities damaged by flood.